


All My Friends Are Heathens

by ImJaebabie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Magic School, Mild Gore, Necromancy, characters to be updated, debatable whether anyone is sane, maybe actual gore, there’s death but there’s also necromancy so the death is of varying permanence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie/pseuds/ImJaebabie
Summary: All Jeno’s friends want him dead. But hey! It’s nice at least to be wanted.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 21
Kudos: 86
Collections: NCT Spookfest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IvyPrincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/gifts).



> this one is for ivy. 
> 
> please do not look at my editing i am posting this from next to a campfire in the rain w minimal data

The path was not very wide. Maybe enough space for two bicycles to ride side-by-side, or two brooms. Bisecting the bottom corner of the woods, it led from one part of campus to another in something akin to a shortcut, if you didn’t mind the potential that whoever was taking advantage of what the woods offered might meet you and consider you part of the offerings. 

Renjun didn’t usually mind. Usually, he was one of the ones taking advantage.

Under his boots the ground was hard and dry, with tumbling leaves skittering away in all directions on the twirling breeze, and so he almost missed the curl of living rope just at the edge of the path. But the leaves shuffled themselves out of the way just in time, and so the shine of smooth blue-black caught his eye.

And, well, not living rope _anymore._ Once, but the snake no longer tightened it’s coil at his approach, or raised its little head to attempt to warn him off. Just, stillness. A tiny twist of reptilian carcass, maybe six inches long if laid out. 

Around his knees Renjun’s cloak gathered, brushing the ground, as he crouched down and eyed the dead snake before petting his pointer finger down the length of its body. 

“What got you, little one?” Renjun asked, running his finger up to the tip of the snake’s nose. “Eat something bad? Too cold? Hmm?”

Renjun adjusted his bag out of the way to a comfortable spot on his back, then pushed his sleeves up along with the draping of his cloak, and pinched at the leather ties around his wrists. One at a time, he undid the knots to loosen them, and carefully removed both. 

The snake, no wider than Renjun’s little finger, felt cool and dry where he pressed his pointer fingertips slightly down the body, his thumbs just below supporting, and his middle fingertips on the head behind the eyes but not quite at the jaw. In the tree just above, a sparrow hopped between branches, its feathers ruffling, then took flight as the space below it crackled quietly between Renjun’s hands: one, fading ash grey with black in his veins, and the other, burning pure white with the veins of a ghost. 

Then it all stopped. Renjun lowered his fingers slowly, very slowly, to allow the little snake to glide out from between them, tiny undulations carrying it off the path and deeper into the woods until it left his sight. 

Retying the leather at his wrists took only a practiced moment, and then he was on his way again. Renjun nearly got to the end of the path before groaning and cursing at himself; he forgot to get any proof. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, “there goes the extra credit.”

—

Leaving class came with a sigh of relief for Renjun; Advanced Summoning usually held his attention plenty well and it’d be useful to him later, but he was pretty sure the witch next to him spent the hour before actively hunting leeches out of the bog and the odor of half-decomposed vegetation had his stomach in tangles the whole period. She passed him leaving the room and her boots left tracks in outlines of deep mulchy brown.

Renjun kept his cloak well away from the trail, hiking it higher up into the cinch at his waist.

The movement made it obvious the moment the point pushed in at the small of his back, a presence looming at his shoulder.

“Is that a knife in my back, or are you just happy to see me?” said Renjun, lightly.

A dark chuckle. “And if I’m happy to see you?”

“That would make it the first time.”

The point receded and Renjun reached around to feel where, sure enough, a new small hole existed in his cloak.

“Dammit Jaemin,” he cursed, “can’t you greet people without a weapon?”

Jaemin curved around another student, avoiding the unconscious flick of their spined tail, and flanked Renjun as they pushed out of the doorway into the crisp air. He flipped a dagger in his hand, catching it by the point, and tucked the glinting blade into a sheath in his belt that Renjun lost track of a second later. “You’re the only one who complains. I think Donghyuck likes it.”

“Donghyuck won’t die if you get knocked a foot forward and accidentally put a knife through his eighth and ninth ribs.”

“That was your ninth and tenth, and I apologized already, and you didn’t even die. If I recall,” added Jaemin, letting Renjun take them towards the courtyard fountain, “you called it a learning experience.”

Renjun rolled his eyes, a movement he knew Jaemin didn’t catch but one that made him feel better. “Making positives out of negatives is kind of my major.”

That made Jaemin laugh, something Renjun carefully pretended not to relish, and that had Jisung perking up from the scroll in his hands as they approached.

Renjun gave him a pat on the shoulder, the one he was pretty sure had the stronger joint today, and dropped his bag on the gravel before taking a seat on the other side of Chenle. There he was further out of the way for Jaemin to take Jisung’s whole face in his hands and pinch his vaguely sallow skin in obvious affectation.

Chenle leaned Renjun’s way and sniffed. “It’s not leech season,” he commented.

“Well, tell Yeojin to feed her cursed frogs something else then. I wasn’t the one in the bog.”

“Oh. I was gonna say. I have leeches, if you need them.”

“I really never do.”

“I do!” From around the other side of the fountain, Jeno strolled up, his portable apothecary case clinking dully with notes of glass, and Donghyuck lurking behind him as always and wearing a very large hat (also as always). “Not like immediately, but they’re pretty useful. What kind do you have?”

He took a seat next to Renjun and Renjun drew his cloak out of the way instinctively; one too many times standing with it caught under something had the movement burned into his muscle memory. He kept meaning to ask Dejun to just enchant it to do it itself, but sorcery class loads were apparently insane because he kept literally vanishing into thin air any time Renjun tried to ask.

On second thought. Maybe he was being avoided. Renjun wasn’t sure. 

“Brown and red,” answered Chenle, then smirked. “But you’ve got yours already so you don’t need mine do you?”

“I don’t—“

Donghyuck leaned around Jeno, bracing a hand on his knee, the sharp points of his obsidian-painted nails relaxed as he leered from under his wide brim. “Let me bite you once, Lele. Then see how leech-like I am.”

“Are we all done flirting?”—Renjun huffed a laugh, terrible since that was two instances now of Jaemin-related amusement, and shot a look at Jeno’s sudden coughing fit on nothing—“Three Sisters closes in an hour and I want to be back at the house in enough time to order pizza.”

To that there was a general consensus and gathering up of selves to head off for dinner, with a brief pause to make sure Jisung’s left knee wasn’t dislocated. Chenle gave it a firm twist, and they headed away from the fountain, except for Renjun.

And Jeno. “You’re not coming?”

“You’ll have to split pepperoni and mushrooms with Jaemin tonight, there’s an interest meeting for the Brotherhood.”

Jeno’s eyes lightened in intrigue and Renjun had to admit he looked more excited than Renjun felt. Renjun’s gut felt like it was full of Goliath moths. 

“Tonight? Wow. I hope that goes well.”

“Me too, I don’t want to have to wait a whole extra semester to join.”

The others had several paces on them by then, and Jeno seemed to hesitate in catching up. “Want me to walk you there?” he asked, shifting the handle on his case into his other hand.

Renjun shook his head. “No, go have dinner, I’ll meet you all later. And don’t let Jaemin poison you?”

“Oh he stopped trying to do that a while ago,” Jeno assured nonchalantly, which Renjun found not the most convincing, still feeling the blade point in his own back. “I think he decided I’m more useful alive. Cool right?”

“It’s an improvement.”

Shooing Jeno off took another minute but finally he jogged to catch up, only pausing to pick up a couple scrolls that had slid out of Jisung’s shoulder bag—the loose joint had faulted after all, it seemed. Renjun watched them retrieve the contents of the ghoul’s bag and shunt his arm back into place, before finally turning himself toward the dark arts side of campus and yanking his shadowy hood up against the dimming sky. 

—

Renjun eased the door to his room shut with the softest hint of a click, only daring to breathe once the mechanism was in place. 

Crossing the room was another, different problem.

The cozy attic room suited Renjun perfectly; he loved the tiny window seat by his gabled opening to the sky, and the built-in shelves that held all his jars and plants up against the steepling walls, and the way his door opened to the stairs that led right out to the rooftop space if he took them higher. 

He did not love that it sat right over Jaemin’s room. The old hardwood floors creaked awfully and Renjun had yet to pinpoint whether Jaemin actually slept or just had the most sensitive ears imaginable, but he was absolutely sure his minutest movements echoed down into Jaemin’s room. Which was like, more or less Jaemin’s problem and not his, but Jaemin had many many knives and a preference for feeding people who annoyed him to the ghoul he was responsible for looking after.

So Renjun tried to move quietly.

He’d strategized three leaps on specific boards to get to his bed—leap to spot one, to spot two, toss self onto bed. Buried in his heavy quilts was when Renjun finally allowed himself to groan deeply against the down of his pillow.

His shirt still had damp spots where his cold, nervous sweat gathered during the interest meeting. Renjun had every right to be there, and yet he couldn’t fully handle Dong Sicheng’s mausoleum stare whenever it landed on him.

_“Any Necromancy major is eligible to enter the Brotherhood. Just take one of these applications, fill out the required information, and bring it back to us before midnight of Samhain.”_

Renjun stuffed his head under his pillow and bit into his sheet.

_“Oh, and of course, bring proof of a Raising. What good is a Necromancer who can’t reanimate anyone? So yes, don’t forget that. Or don’t bother.”_

The combination of Nakamoto Yuta’s instructions in sunny black and white beside Sicheng’s silence had Renjun shaking as he’d left. 

So. That was it. He just had to perform an actual act of Necromancy. On a person.


	2. Wait for them to ask you who you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's Aura [waves hand over map] Not Good.

“You were out pretty late, how did the meeting go?”

The kitchen smelled a curious combination of sulfur and actual eggs when Renjun entered, and he had to fight through the horrible mix clouding his brain with nausea before processing Jeno’s question, which sounded oddly nasal.

“How are you in this room right now?” he asked, curving it while looking for anything in the cupboard that might neutralize the air. Sage, mint leaves, a cauldron lid. Renjun took the latter and hazarded it over the pot on the stove next to Jeno’s pan of breakfast, plugging his nose as he went.

“Oh, I always come prepared.”

A glance to his left showed that Jeno had foam plugs in his nostrils, and a smile too bright for the situation on his face.

Renjun quick tied some string around the herbs and clothes-pinned them on the dry-line above the stove, hoping for the best.

He wasn’t sure about breakfast anymore, but every day in that house was a toss up.

“Why would you cook these both at the same time.”

“I wouldn’t. The cauldron is Chenle’s.”

“I thought he had a bunsen in his room for this stuff?”

Jeno nodded. “A few, but whatever he’s doing needed more burners. So glad I picked Apothecary Science over Alchemy. Do you want breakfast?” His pan bubbled pleasantly, gooey yellow and soft white, but Renjun’s nose couldn’t filter the rotten tang of sulfur out.

He popped a mint leaf in his mouth and chewed. “I’ll pass.” 

“And the interest meeting?”

Pressure curled behind Renjun’s eyes, and he rummaged more in the cupboard for his dried fruits to pack for his snack later, apple rings and mango strips into his satchel. Chenle brushed behind him in a flurry of slippers and stained labcoat.

“Who put a lid on this? Where are the oven mitts? Come on.”

“It went fine, I can join this semester. Just have to raise the dead, but, y’know.”

“It’s not supposed to  _ steam.” _

“Isn’t that what you do anyway?”

“No, I don’t steam sulfites, they need to boil.”

“Well yeah, but a whole person is harder.”

“To boil?”

“Oh, a whole person? Yikes. Have you done that?”

“They won’t fit in a cauldron this small.”

“What? No, that’s not what I mean—”

Renjun thought his head was going to explode, between the odor and the conversation, spinning out of control.

Luckily, Jaemin picked that moment to wake up. “For whomever is making my room smell like rotten eggs and mint, I have a very special gift. It’s fast and permanent.” He slid into the bench by the table, and Renjun could see nothing in his hands that backed the threat but it didn’t give him any reassurance.

Chenle ripped down the herbs and threw them in the sink. “Well I don’t know where _those_ came from. But I’m trying out a new preservative recipe for Jisung, so the sulfite stink you’ll have to put up with for a little longer.”

“Ah. I’ll just leave. I’m busy today anyway. They released a new wanted list last night, so I have a long day ahead of me.”

Paused in the act of checking to make sure his notebooks were all in his satchel, Renjun leaned against the edge of the table. “Hey, how long was it? Lot of names? Were they all like, big scary people? Would you consider—”

Jaemin slid his arm across the wood and laid his head down on it. “You can’t have any. I’m doing meal prep.”

“—letting me...fine. But what if, and just think about it, you let me raise just one of them, and  _ then _ you can kill them again for ghoul meals?”

“No.”

Renjun pouted. “Okay.” He only felt confident about so much bargaining with Jaemin, and definitely less when he was clearly tired and cross. Again, he couldn’t  _ see _ any knives but that didn’t mean none were present. And they  _ were _ in the kitchen.

He headed for the door, resolving to see if Dejun would let him close enough to ask a few questions.

—

The atmosphere around the school was unexpectedly uncomfortable. Renjun walked out their front door and down the whining steps and right into a cloud of energy he immediately hated, which only got worse the deeper he walked into campus. Nerves rankled, Renjun felt glad he’d thoughtlessly stuffed some of the mint and sage from earlier in his bag, digging them out to wave around as he walked, trying to clear some of whatever shit was leaving chemtrails of bad vibes everywhere. He didn’t know who had fucked up the communal aura but they had done it thoroughly. He should've checked the local forecast. 

Feeling itchy and over-warm, Renjun aimed for the dark arts quadrant of the school and kept his eyes open. He knew Dejun wouldn’t answer if he texted him, so his best hope was to see one of the other sorcery students loitering, maybe conjuring something, and ask nicely for his location. Hell, maybe one of them could conjure Dejun himself! Renjun wasn't super clear on how that worked.

What he found instead was a tall, golden-haired figure, lion’s tail flicking low by his heels as he bent his wingspan around another figure between him and the oak tree they stood under, blatantly sucking face. At nine in the morning, in public. 

Renjun grimaced. The couple of vampires on campus would take offense at the ferocity with which Yukhei mauled Yangyang’s neck. 

Unfortunately, they were an even faster method to finding Dejun than a random sorcerer-in-training. So he approached.

“Ahem.”

The only sign Renjun got that Yukhei knew he was there was the slight ruffle of ruddy feathers at the back of his neck and elbows, and something resembling a low growl. His mouth stayed resolutely on the vaguely iridescent skin of his boyfriend’s neck.

Yangyang, however, flicked his eyes to Renjun, their slitted irises doing a neat, complex process of kaleidoscopic adjustment before he grinned toothily—hinged fangs blessedly not visible—at Renjun. “What’s up, man?” he asked.

Renjun shuffled and adjusted his hold on his bag, shoving the herbs back inside. “Hey. Um, d’you know what Dejun is up to right now? I gotta ask him about…a thing.”

Yukhei turned his head and did something that had Yangyang momentarily hissing—his thin, forked tongue darting out for one unsettling moment—before answering, “He’s probably finishing up his night classes right now before heading to breakfast.”

“Thank—”

“But he’s not gonna like, talk to you, dude.”

The gross aura felt like it briefly tightened around Renjun’s skin. He was afraid of that. “Why not?”

Lifting a hand up to stick a finger directly into Yukhei’s mouth past a formidable fang, Yangyang tugged his boyfriend away by hook-in-cheek and squared his shoulders to speak to Renjun with less distraction. Yukhei wrinkled his nose and smacked his lips, rough tongue licking about his teeth in annoyance, and leaned sideways against the tree trunk to glare amber at Renjun. 

“So, I don’t know totally, but it was some auditory prophecy, I guess? Right in the middle of the cafeteria. Kunhang slammed his whole tray into him, Dejun stopped so short. Spilled like half a bowl of cereal down his back. Super humiliating,” explained Yangyang, grinning all reptilian through the weird little clicks his voice made as he spoke. “But yeah it told him to ‘Beware Renjun,’ he said. We think it might  _ actually  _ have said to ‘Beware the tenth of June,’ but he won’t listen to us.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. So you can try to catch him by the cafe but he’s gonna like, dematerialize probably.”

Yukhei leaned over Yangyang's shoulder and quirked an eyebrow at Renjun. "How do you catch a sorcerer who doesn't want to be caught?"

"Um. Bait them with...treats?"

"No. You don't." Answering his own riddle, Yukhei shrugged with a grin like it was funny, and raked a taloned hand back through his hair. 

Renjun sighed. He’d honestly prefer that Dejun just didn’t like him, than this. This was far more inconvenient. 

“Well, thanks,” he replied anyway, resolving to give it a try. “I’ll see if he’ll let me shout a question at him from a few feet away.”

Yangyang gave him a thumbs up, slightly scaled at the back and the pad displaying thin hairlike fibers instead of a swirling oval print. Renjun would never understand how Yukhei could enjoy those fingers on him, setules sticking with every touch. But he didn’t try very hard. He just headed on his way while they two of them went back to their bastardized mating ritual, Yukhei’s tail curling possessively around Yangyang’s thin leg.

Despite the shitty aura, Renjun called it a stroke of luck that he sighted Dejun almost immediately. 

Ah, no, not luck. 

Kunhang.

So  _ yes _ luck, just not figurative. Kunhang must’ve been in a good mood.

The moment Dejun caught sight of Renjun, his whole body tensed visibly from several paces away, and if not for Kunhang grabbing him by both upper arms Renjun was sure he’d have popped right out of that sidewalk square in a puff of purple smoke. 

“Lemme go. Lemme gooo,” Dejun hissed—not with a forked tongue—and wriggled in Kunhang’s hold as Renjun got closer.

Kunhang grinned at Renjun pleasantly, his one gold tooth glinting sharply. “No. Hey Renjun!”

Renjun waved and hazarded a hesitant smile. “Kunhang, hi.” He coughed. “...Dejun.”

Dejun stared at Kunhang and made a pained noise, face a mixture of distress and fear. Not exactly ideal.

“Chill out, would you? Gods.” Kunhang rolled his eyes. “What can we do for ya?”

As he spoke, a huddle of students passed behind the two of them, one snickering something and quipping, “Where the charms at, Lucky? Let anyone in your pot’o’gold lately?” They carried on in a bubble of their own insipid laughter while Kunhang’s face went from pleasant to plasticine, the corner of his eye twitching. 

Renjun had heard it wasn’t a cakewalk, being the only person of leprechaun blood at the school. He’d even heard some seniors had captured Kunhang and strung him up like a piñata at a party his first year, demanding he give them gold. But, no one went that far anymore. Not with the bad luck that came after.

Kunhang exhaled slowly while Dejun stopped wriggling, instead whispering something about ‘not listening to that shit, I’ll summon a ghost to their dorm, don’t worry.’

Nodding, Kunhang turned his glinting smile back to Renjun. “Sorry, what did you need?”

“No worries, I just wanted to ask Dejun if he could spare me some clairvoyance on this project I need to work out?”

Dejun shook his head emphatically. “No, sorry.”

“Yeah, he can,” insisted Kunhang. “What kind of project?”

Clearing his throat, Renjun shuffled a little closer, absent-mindedly smoothing his cloak over his arms. “Ah it’s...so, I need someone dead…”

Dejun, like a spooked cat, jumped in Kunhang’s hold, eyes wide.

“No, no! Not like, not  _ you,  _ I mean—”

“Kunhang, let me go  _ please!” _

“Dead like how? Like, are you taking out a hit on someone? Or you need a body—” Kunhang asked, switching to hold around Dejun’s waist with his arms pinned to his sides.

Renjun cleared his throat. “Just a dead body, I mean I can kill them I guess, but dead so I can practice an actual Raising, which also, Dejun? If you have any feelings on like,  _ when _ would be a good date for this, like with the stars and the planets and whatnot—”

“Kunhang I will conjure a black hole right under our feet, _right_ fucking _now,_ I swear!”

This was apparently not as empty a threat as it sounded, and Kunhang released Dejun hastily, lightly jumping a pace back. Dejun squeaked in relief and only gave Renjun something like an apologetic glance before vanishing in a nicely lavender scented haze.

“Yeah so, he’s uh…” Kunhang scratched at his coppery hair. “Like, really afraid of you right now.”

“So I heard.”

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s lame, sorry. I’m trying to help him by keeping my luck around him but he’s just wigged. But hey, don’t you like, know someone who’s dead?”

Renjun blinked. Did he? “What...who do you mean?” 

Squinting, Kunhang searched the clouds like they reflected his memory and then snapped his fingers, which made a fun little golden spark.

He said, “The ghoul kid! Ji...chung?”

“Jisung?”

“Yes! Aren’t ghouls dead technically?”

The thought bumped into Renjun’s brain like a toy car hitting the end of its track.  _ Bonk, _ isn’t your friend dead? Hello?  _ Bonk.  _ Why hadn’t he considered that? Maybe if Renjun raised Jisung, Jeno wouldn’t have to keep sewing his fingers back on. 

“Huh, that’s…” Renjun pinched his chin, a glimmer of excitement in his chest. “That’s not a bad suggestion…”

“Yeah? Cool.” 

“Thanks!” Rolling the idea in his head, Renjun almost headed off, then paused and asked, “Hey, Kunhang, any idea what the fuck is up with the aura today?”

Kunhang sucked his teeth, grimacing and shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “Mark.”

Ah. That…sort of explained it. “Yikes, okay. See you around!”

Kunhang shot him a finger gun and wink, which  _ physically  _ felt lucky to Renjun, and they parted ways. Renjun headed for the library with light steps. He hoped there were plenty of books on ghouls. 

**Author's Note:**

> will be doing this in chapters bc i have poor time management skills but! most is already written :)


End file.
